


Sparks and Fire

by EstherA2J



Series: Forever Sounds Good [2]
Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: Attraction, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Couch Sex, Embarrassment, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Immortality, Kissing, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Panic Attacks, Questions, Secrets, Self Confidence Issues, Virginity, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-27 04:57:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7604353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EstherA2J/pseuds/EstherA2J
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trying to get his bearings in his new immortal life, Lucas is glad for Henry's experience and assistance. But when Lucas realizes he wants more than friendship from Henry, he panics. Henry would never want him... <i>that</i> way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sparks and Fire

Lucas sighed, leaning forward from where he sat on the couch in Henry and Abe’s apartment to pick up a teacup from the coffee table. He’d always been more of a coffee guy, but the way Abe made it, tea wasn’t so bad. With lots of cream and honey, anyway. “Henry, are you serious—Abe is the only one who knows?” Lucas brought the tea to his lips, blowing across the surface before sipping. “I just—I wanna tell  _ someone _ .”

A snort from Abe brought Lucas’ gaze around to the older man sitting beside him: Henry’s  _ son! _ —he still hadn’t gotten over  _ that _ bombshell. Somehow, believing oneself and one’s… mentor to be  _ immortal _ was easier to believe than that. Abe reached out and squeezed Lucas’ shoulder, his eyes full of sympathy.

Henry gazed into his tea as if it might hold the answers to the universe. Lucas had a sudden urge to ask him if his tea leaves spelled out ‘42’ and he had to bite his lip to prevent a sudden laugh. Henry finally raised his gaze, his eyes meeting Lucas’ and, for some reason, Lucas suddenly found it hard to breathe normally. “The first person I told,” Henry said, his voice so soft Lucas had to lean forward and concentrate to hear, “was my first wife, Nora. She had me committed to an asylum.”

“She…  _ what? _ ” Lucas sputtered, his eyes wide. Lucas had played  _ Arkham Asylum _ and watched  _ 12 Monkeys _ —asylums were not places good people sent their loved ones.

“It was 1814; it was a different time.” Henry’s eyes were lost in memories. “And, in hindsight, I didn’t choose the best way to tell her. She believed me suicidal when I tried to slit my wrists.” His mouth twisted in regret. “Still, you can understand why I am hesitant to tell anyone, even now.”

Realizing his mouth was hanging open like a gaping fish, Lucas forced it closed and swallowed hard. “Oh my God, Henry.”

Eyes flickering up to meet Lucas’ gaze, Henry quickly added, “I assure you: I was not suicidal. I was merely trying to prove my outlandish story in the only way I could think of to do so.”

Abe snorted. “Not  _ then _ anyway.”

Henry turned his compassionate gaze on Abe. “I am  _ not _ suicidal, Abraham. I merely seek a way to end my curse.”

Another snort, and Abe leaned forward to refill his teacup from the quite possibly antique teapot. The man did own an antiques shop. “I see no difference, Pops.”

“Wait, wait.” Leaning forward, Lucas stared at Henry, baffled. “‘ _ Curse? _ ’”

Henry wet his lips, and Lucas’ eyes followed the motion, fascinated despite his horror at the topic of conversation. “This… living forever—” Henry made a vague motion with one hand. “It’s not as wonderful as it might seem.”

“Are you kidding?” Lucas shook his head in disbelief. Henry opened his mouth to say more, but Lucas continued, “I’ve seen a lot of movies, Henry, so I know the usual complaint: you have to watch everyone else get old and die. I’ll admit that sounds like it really sucks. But still. You’re like a superhero.”

One of Henry’s eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. “I would hardly compare myself to a comic book character.”

“Well, I would,” Lucas insisted. “Or even a TV character like Jack Harkness.” Yeah: now that he thought about it, Henry really did have a lot in common with Captain Jack.

A bark of laughter burst from Abe. “I always thought of you as kinda like Steve Rogers, the man out of time, but Lucas is right. Jack Harkness is definitely your fictional counterpart.”

Henry looked back and forth between the two of them, a completely baffled expression on his face. “Do I want to know?”

“Torchwood? Doctor Who?” Lucas’ eyes widened when Henry’s expression didn’t change. He turned to Abe. “Do you have Netflix?” Abe shook his head, still grinning, and Lucas shrugged. “Well, I do. Is there internet here or should we all go over to my place?”

Henry blinked, staring at Lucas in consternation. “Right now?”

Pushing himself up from the couch with a grunt, Abe said, “I’ll just get my laptop.”

Henry’s gaze followed Abe, then flashed back to Lucas. “I don’t really watch much television. I’m happier with a good book.”

“Stuff it, Pops,” Abe said as he returned with a surprisingly nice laptop. Glancing at Lucas, he grinned. “I gotta have a website for the store, and I’m not a technophobe like dear old Dad here.” He cast a good-natured glare at Henry, then grinned at Lucas. “‘Utopia,’ I think, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Lucas’ grin widened. “Perfect.”

***

As the credits rolled, Henry fixed Abe with a disbelieving look. “Really, Abraham? Three immortals to choose from in that, and you compare me to Harkness?”

“Well, Pops, the Master is more like Adam, don’tcha think?” Abe’s eyes twinkled as he winked at Lucas.

“And the… Doctor?” Henry asked drily.

“Well…” Abe drew out the word thoughtfully. “You  _ are _ a doctor, but… the Doctor regenerates into a completely different form when he dies. Admittedly, you come back differently than Jack does, but he’s still the closest analog, being human and all. And he did say he was looking for a way to die.”

Henry nodded slowly. “I see your point.”

“But he changed his mind,” Lucas interjected. “He decided that living was a good thing after all. And you have something he didn’t have.” He spread his arms out to either side. “Me.”

A smile slowly spread across Henry’s face. “Yes, you’re right, Lucas. I should count my blessings.” He had moved from the armchair to join Abe and Lucas on the couch so they could all see the laptop screen, and now he laid his hand on Lucas’ forearm with a gentle squeeze.

Suddenly aware of how very close Henry was, Lucas dropped his gaze, his breath catching. Oh  _ shit _ . Was he crushing on his  _ boss? _ His immortal, admittedly very attractive, yet much  _ much _ older boss? That had to be inappropriate… right? Swallowing hard, he managed to say, “Yes, you should.” His voice didn’t even shake… much.

“I will endeavour to remember to do so.” The formal words and construction should have sounded stiff and cold, but Henry’s voice was warm, the low timbre sending a thrill through Lucas from where Henry was still touching his arm.

Lucas bit his lip. He should really pull away. Or something. “I… uh… can I use your bathroom?”

“Of course.” Henry finally drew his hand back as Lucas leapt to his feet, and Abe pointed the way to a door halfway down the hall. The other two doors must lead to bedrooms, and Lucas found himself wondering which one was Henry’s. And that was  _ incredibly _ inappropriate. Heat filled his face as he fled, closing the bathroom door behind him and leaning against it as he let the air out of his lungs in a rush.

It’s not like he hadn’t noticed before that Henry was handsome, he just hadn’t really thought about it. He was thinking about it now, though—he couldn’t  _ stop _ thinking about it. Leaning forward, Lucas braced his hands on either side of the sink. “He’s your boss,” he told his reflection. “And he’s old enough to be your great great great whatever grandfather. Get a grip.”

Shaking his head at himself, Lucas turned on the cold tap and splashed his face. Feeling somewhat refreshed and more in control of himself, he went back out to face the Morgans.

Henry and Abe were debating the merits of watching the next episode, Abe’s argument being that they couldn’t leave the Doctor, Martha, and Jack in peril, with no TARDIS and the monstrous Futurekind about to get them, while Henry indulgently rolled his eyes and reminded Abe that these were fictional characters. Normally, Lucas would have jumped in on Abe’s side, but he wasn’t sure if he could handle another forty-five minutes sitting next to Henry tonight. “I think I’m gonna head home now,” he announced. “Do you need any help cleaning up?” He gestured toward the teapot and cups.

“No, no. Don’t worry about it.” Abe waved a hand at him and bent to begin collecting cups.

“Let me get my coat.” Henry was out of his chair before Lucas could blink. “I’ll walk you home.”

“You—you don’t have to—” Lucas began, but Henry just smiled, swirling his long coat around his lean frame.

“Nonsense, Lucas. It’s no trouble.”

“O–okay.” Did guys usually walk their guy friends home? No guy friend had ever before offered to do such a thing. Maybe it was a 19 th Century thing. It didn’t mean that Henry was  _ interested _ . Don’t go jumping to conclusions, Lucas. Just because it sounded like something you’d do for a date. Not that Lucas had much—or  _ any _ —experience dating.

Shoving his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, Lucas followed Henry out the door, trying not to stare at how cool his long coat looked as he walked. Unlike Captain Jack, Henry buttoned his coat up all the way to his chin, so it didn’t move freely around his legs as he walked—or flare out behind him like a cape—but it was still really cool.

Unsure what to say—and pretty sure if he started talking, he wouldn’t be able to stop babbling—Lucas walked in silence next to Henry. The sun had set hours ago, but the streetlights’ yellow glow illuminated their path easily. Lucas’ lips twitched up slightly as he realized he never again had to worry about a mugging—he never carried cash, and now he didn’t have to fear a gun or knife. As far as he was concerned, the advantages of immortality far outweighed the disadvantages.

They walked in silence the few blocks to Lucas’ apartment, and—apparently lost in thought—Henry continued for several steps when Lucas stopped. Turning with a bemused expression, Henry inclined his head in apology, and Lucas shrugged. “So… I’ll see you at work tomorrow?”

“Yes.” Henry’s eyes searched Lucas’ face for a moment. “Goodnight, Lucas.”

Standing alone under the flickering light, Lucas watched until Henry was out of sight before going inside. Was that weird? That seemed weird.

***

Lucas slept in the next morning, and couldn’t find his phone when he finally got up to see why his alarm app hadn’t woken him. He’d had it in his pocket yesterday at work… when he’d been shot only to wake up naked in the East River. He’d forgotten to ask Henry about that last night. Leaving a pile of clothes behind when you died seemed like a good way to get people suspicious. Come to think of it, someone at the precinct must have heard the gunshots yesterday. There were going to be questions. A cowardly part of him really wanted to stay home today, but he couldn’t leave Henry to face that alone.

Ducking in to work late, Lucas was surprised when no one accosted him on the way in. He found out why when he entered the lab: Jo and Mike were in Henry’s office, discussing the crazy man they had found shooting at the walls yesterday. Sticking his head in the door, Lucas tried to look and sound casual. “Anyone see a phone around? I think I left mine here yesterday.”

“Lucas.” Jo’s gaze pinned him. “What time did you leave yesterday?”

“I, um…” Lucas floundered, completely at a loss. This is what he’d been afraid of. He should have stayed home.

A hand gripped his shoulder from behind, and Henry’s voice was nearly right in his ear. “We left together, Detective Martinez. Around half past five, I’d say.”

Trying to suppress the shiver that gripped him at Henry’s touch, Lucas nodded. “Right. Yeah.” How the hell did Henry deal with these kinds of questions all the time? Well, of course, he’d had a lot of time to practice.

Jo’s steady gaze assessed the two of them, making Lucas want to squirm. “Well, I’m sorry, Henry, but you’ll have to give us a minute to clear your office. Someone came in here and fired two shots into the walls just after you left.”

Henry’s hand tightened momentarily on Lucas’ shoulder. “That’s odd.” He sounded intrigued, and not at all guilty, while Lucas was drowning in guilt.

“Yeah,” Mike interjected, slipping two bullets into an evidence bag. “One in the wall behind your chair there, Henry—” He pointed. “—and one over there.” He swung around to point at the wall behind where Lucas had been standing last night.

Sudden memory of the pain and fear of that moment hit Lucas, and he swayed on his feet, Henry’s grip on his shoulder the only thing keeping him upright. He closed his eyes for a moment, and opened them to find Jo studying him with concern. “I’m just glad that neither of you were here,” she said.

“No one had seen you leave,” Mike put in. “When we heard the shots, there was a bit of a panic. Until we found that crazy raving about vanishing men, and no sign of either of you.”

Henry cleared his throat softly, his grip on Lucas’ shoulder reassuring. “I apologize for any anxiety caused by our early departure.”

“Not exactly your fault,” Mike returned gruffly. “It’s not like you could know this nutcase was gonna show up.”

“I’d like to ask you a few questions, if you don’t mind, Henry.” Jo’s voice was halfway between gentle and official.

“Of course. I’ll be with you in a moment.” Henry gently pulled Lucas back from the door and guided him to a chair. “Take as much time as you need,” he murmured. “In fact, take the day off if you like.”

Lucas’ chest hurt, and he couldn’t seem to get enough air, but he nodded. With one last concerned look, Henry went inside his office and closed the door. Leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, Lucas closed his eyes, pressed his head between his hands, and focused on getting air into his lungs. His heart pounded in his ears and he dug his fingers into his scalp, trying to ground himself.

Being immortal certainly didn’t stop him from hyperventilating. It also didn’t stop the fear that clawed at his insides. Get a grip, Lucas! What did he have to be afraid of? Well, other than pain of course. Oh God. Bending almost double, he rested his forehead on his knees and clasped his hands behind his neck. This was a panic attack. He was having a panic attack because he had  _ died _ yesterday, and he probably shouldn’t have come to work today, but how could he have known this would happen? He was immortal! It was all so incredibly  _ cool _ , and here he was freaking out over it!

A hand on his back brought him back to reality, and he looked up into Henry’s concerned gaze. “Lucas? I’m sorry; I should have insisted that you take a sick day today.”

Lucas’ chest clenched and tears sprang to his eyes. There was something so very heartwarming about Henry worrying about him. But still: “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m not sick. Can I even  _ get _ sick?” His voice had risen and he forced it down. “Henry, what happened to our clothes yesterday? And my phone?”

Henry crouched in front of Lucas, resting his hands on Lucas’ shoulders. “Okay, first: yes, you can get sick. And—” He took a breath that was almost a sigh. “I have no idea where the clothes go. Everything I’m wearing and everything in my pockets disappears and I never see it again. Was your phone in your pocket?”

“Yes. You don’t  _ know _ —?” Lucas dug his fingers into his scalp. “Oh my God. I’m having a  _ panic _ attack, Henry.”

“That’s perfectly normal.” Henry’s voice was soft, his eyes full of compassion.

“Normal?  _ Normal? _ ” Lucas’ voice was rising again, and it was an effort not to shout. “What is  _ normal _ about any of this?”

“Lucas.” Henry’s voice was calm yet firm. He dropped one hand to Lucas’ knee and leaned closer. “I know you’re upset, and believe me, I understand. I think you should go home, take the day off, take as much time as you need.”

Biting his lip, Lucas tore his gaze from Henry’s and stared at his hands, clasped tightly between his eyes. What did it say about him that he suddenly really wanted to kiss Henry? Here, where Jo or Mike, or even Lieutenant Reece could walk by and see them? His knee under Henry’s palm was really hot, and the heat was travelling quickly up his leg in a way that was about to be uncomfortable and possibly embarrassing. He had to get away. “I, uh, yeah. That’s a good—really good idea.” Oh, smooth, Lucas, Real smooth.

But Henry was rocking back on his heels and his hands fell away, so it worked. Good. That was  _ good _ . So why did Lucas feel like shit? Pushing himself to his feet, he made a beeline for the exit, trying not to think about Henry, and his hands, and how good they’d felt. Just before he reached the door, Henry called after him, “Oh, Lucas? Abe wanted me to ask you to dinner tomorrow. Around six?”

Catching the door frame with one hand, Lucas swayed on his feet as he stopped. He should say no. But Henry did have experience with this whole immortality thing and, if movies had taught Lucas anything, it was that the young hero always needed a Yoda. Henry would be good at that role. Lucas’ racing heartbeat at the thought of hanging out in Henry’s home again had nothing to do with it. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be there.”

***

They settled into a pattern that quickly became a habit. Lucas had dinner with Henry and Abe three or four nights a week while Henry told Lucas stories of his  _ two hundred and thirty-five _ years of life. Lucas was surprised to learn that Henry had no idea why or how he was immortal, despite having spent nearly two hundred years trying to figure it out. Lucas had some vague idea that spending time with Henry would gradually become commonplace and this stupid crush would fade with familiarity, but it only got worse. Henry was fascinating, and the more Lucas learned about him, the more he wanted to know—and the more he really wanted to kiss him. And, well, more.

Lucas had realized in his late teens that he didn’t really have a gender preference in dating partners, though it wasn’t like anyone of either gender was breaking down his door to be with him. That had never really bothered him much as he had never met anyone he really felt more than casual attraction toward. Now, though, he had to admit that what he was feeling for Henry was not casual. Maybe it had been at first, but sometime over the weeks since they were shot, things had changed.

Henry was… hot. There was really no other word for it. Sitting in the living room in the flat above the antiques shop, Lucas tried not to stare at him too obviously while Henry told another story that Lucas was honestly listening to, but the way Henry got when he was passionate about something was just so captivating.

Finishing his tale, Henry stood and collected tea cups, taking them to the kitchen, and Abe fastened Lucas with a steady stare. “You’re good for him,” he announced, and Lucas blinked, completely flummoxed. What? Abe leaned forward in his chair, lacing his fingers together and resting his elbows on his knees. “I haven’t seen him this happy, this  _ alive _ since Mom.”

“Really?” Lucas rubbed his suddenly sweaty palms on his jeans, his gaze drawn to the muted clatter of china in the kitchen. “You, um… think…?” Yeah, Lucas. You’re the king of smooth. But he really had no idea how to respond, not knowing exactly what Abe was getting at.

“Lucas…” Abe stared at his hands. “I see the way you look at him. And the way he looks at you. I might not be the most modern guy, but if you think I’d have a problem with it… well, I don’t.”

Panic gripped Lucas’ chest, closing off his throat. Was he really that obvious? And, oh God, Henry’s  _ son _ was giving his blessing to—to… this was  _ not _ happening. “He’s ten times my age!” Lucas blurted.

One of Abe’s eyebrows rose as he met Lucas’ eyes. “Mom was a hundred and forty years younger than him. Age is just a number, Lucas.”

Oh my God. They were really having this conversation. Digging his fingers into his knees, Lucas shook his head firmly. “He’s my  _ boss _ .”

“Well, that could be a problem,” Abe admitted. “If you let it. I guess what you have to decide is what you want and if it’s worth it.”

What he wanted. Lucas chewed on the inside of his bottom lip, staring at the carpet. He wanted Henry. And, if it was only Lucas’ career he had to worry about it, it would totally be worth it. “It’s not just… Abe, he could lose his job! I can’t… I’m not worth that.”

“Do you really believe that, Lucas?” Henry’s voice was sad and quiet, and brought Lucas’ head up as sharply as if he had shouted. Henry sat down on the couch next to him, moving as if afraid Lucas might bolt. Which, honestly, he might. Oh, God. How much had Henry heard? As if aware that Lucas was unable to respond, Henry continued, “I admit that it took me a while to appreciate your charms, but… you know your own worth, don’t you?”

Abe muttered something, and Lucas saw him out of the corner of his eye get up and leave the room. Leaving him alone with Henry. Surely the temperature had gone up a few degrees. And where had the oxygen gone?

“Lucas…” Henry reached out and laid a gentle hand on Lucas’ forearm, and something inside Lucas broke, exploding outward like the Death Star. And Henry was Luke Skywalker.

A choked laugh escaped Lucas. His entire being was afire, Henry was leaning toward him, his eyes soft with concern and what looked like attraction and desire for  _ Lucas _ , and all Lucas could think was, ‘Use the Force, Henry!’ Maybe this was why he’d never had a serious relationship before.

“Did you…” Lucas had never heard Henry sound so hesitant before, had never dreamed he  _ could _ sound so hesitant. “What do you want, Lucas?”

Oh God. Ohgodohgodohgod. Lucas couldn’t look away from Henry’s scorching, kind gaze. His mouth worked, but words wouldn’t come. I want  _ you _ . He couldn’t say  _ that _ . He couldn’t say  _ anything _ .

“We’re not in the lab here, Lucas.” Henry’s voice rumbled softly, vibrating through Lucas and  _ not helping _ . “I’m not your boss here.”

Shit. Lucas’ finally tore his gaze from Henry’s eyes only to get caught on Henry’s mouth. Was Henry really saying what he sounded like he was saying? How much had he heard of Lucas’ conversation with Abe? If Lucas just leaned forward and kissed those lips, just to see if they were as soft as they looked, what would Henry do? He was already starting to lean forward when he caught himself and jerked back, heat rushing into his face. No. Henry was just being nice. He couldn’t possibly want to kiss Lucas.

Except then Henry’s gaze flashed down to Lucas’ lips and then the tip of Henry’s tongue ran quickly over his own lips, and oh  _ God _ . Lucas couldn’t suppress a low groan.

And then Henry was leaning forward, and Lucas met him halfway, and their lips met, and it wasn’t the Death Star, it was  _ more _ . Lucas made an embarrassing noise deep in his throat, his hands coming up to clutch at Henry’s shirt. He wanted to crawl into Henry’s lap, he wanted to crawl inside Henry’s  _ skin _ .

Henry’s hands fell to rest on Lucas’ hips, and there went all of Lucas’ self control. Right out the window. Throwing a leg over Henry’s lap, he sat facing him, sliding his hands up into Henry’s hair and slipping his tongue into Henry’s mouth. He was rewarded with a groan from Henry that set a blaze in his belly. Dragging his mouth from Henry’s, he leaned in and breathed into his ear, “I want  _ you _ , Henry.” God, did he actually say that?

Henry didn’t seem to mind the cheesiness of the line though, dipping his head and sucking on the spot where Lucas’ neck met his shoulder. And,  _ oh _ . That was something Lucas had never experienced before, but had he ever been missing out. Lucas was pretty sure he could be happy with Henry just doing  _ that _ forever.

So when Henry lifted his head, Lucas made a sound of protest that sounded incredibly pathetic to his own ears. Henry’s breathing was ragged, just like Lucas’, and his fingers tightened on Lucas’ hips as he raised his head to catch Lucas’ eyes. “Do you still think you’re not worth it?” he asked, his voice rough.

“I don’t— _ God _ , Henry.” Lucas shook his head sharply, his fingers digging into Henry’s scalp. “How can I be worth your  _ career? _ ”

“I’ve lost jobs before, Lucas.” Henry wet his lips, and Lucas followed the motion of his tongue, just stopping himself from surging forward to capture it with his lips. The corner of Henry’s mouth tilted up as if he knew what Lucas was thinking. “Jobs and careers come and go, but it is the people in our lives that make it worth living.”

“‘You know the thing you need most of all? You need a hand to hold’,” Lucas murmured, and bit his lip to prevent a hysterical giggle.

Henry untangled one of Lucas’ hands from his hair and laced their fingers together. “Yes.” He brought Lucas’ hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles.

A shiver ran up Lucas’ arm and he shifted slightly in Henry’s lap, uncomfortable in jeans that were rapidly becoming too tight. The movement brought him up against a bulge in Henry’s tailored pants, and he gasped. “Henry—” he choked off whatever he’d been about to say, wide eyes meeting Henry’s gaze, breath stuttering as he held himself as still as he could.

Henry held Lucas’ gaze steadily, his irises nearly consumed by dilated pupils, and yet, he was quiet and still, patient. “Are you all right, Lucas?”

“Peachy.” Lucas’ voice was faint and breathy. “It’s just… I’ve never…” Oh, God, could he just die already? Waking up naked in the river would be less mortifying than this. Tugging his hands free, he set them against Henry’s shoulders and pushed himself back a few inches, putting some space between them. “Sorry—I don’t… shit, Henry, I–I should have told you. God, I’m just a  _ kid _ compared to you!”

Henry laid both of his hands over Lucas’ hands. “You’re not a child. If I wanted to be with someone who wasn’t over a hundred years my junior, my only choice would be Adam. And, setting aside the fact that he’s a psychopathic serial killer, he claims to be over a thousand years my senior.” He lifted one hand and brushed the backs of his knuckles down Lucas’ cheek, trailing sparks over the skin. “Why can’t you see how remarkable you are?”

Choking off a laugh, Lucas tipped his head slightly toward Henry’s hand on his face. “You sound like the Doctor. ‘In nine hundred years of time and space, I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t important’.”

A mischievous glint lit up Henry’s eyes. “I thought I was Captain Jack Harkness?”

Lucas’ laughter burst free. He shook his head in wonder and lifted his hands to frame Henry’s face. “How did I get so lucky to meet you?”

Henry’s smile widened. “Maybe we’re both lucky.” His hands returned to Lucas’ hips and he tugged him close again. And, oh God. Yes—they were both still hard.

An inarticulate noise escaped Lucas, and he dropped his head and hands to Henry’s shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle hidden beneath Henry’s fancy shirt. And yes, he was hiding his face. Sue him.

Henry’s fingers slid up under Lucas’ t-shirt, teasing the skin on his sides while his thumbs brushed over Lucas’ stomach. It tickled. An undignified squeak escaped Lucas and he squirmed, which ground their erections together. Even through several layers of cloth, it was enough to send a blinding flash of white heat through Lucas’ body, short circuiting his brain.

Gasping for breath, Lucas tried to loosen his death grip on Henry’s shoulders. “I’m sorry… I–I really… don’t know what I’m doing,” he managed to say.

“You’re doing fine.” Henry sounded nearly as breathless as Lucas did, which gave Lucas a little burst of pride. He had done that to Henry, made him sound like that. Henry skimmed one palm over Lucas’s waist around to his stomach and down to the waistband of his jeans. He paused when he reached the button, and Lucas barely heard him ask over the roaring in his ears, “May I?”

Swallowing hard, Lucas nodded and said hoarsely, “Yes.” Henry popped the button, and tugged the zipper down. His knuckles brushed against Lucas’ erection and, with only the thin fabric of his boxers stretched tightly over it now, Lucas gasped, his vision nearly whiting out. “ _ Shit _ . Henry, I can’t—I’m gonna…”

“That is the idea, Lucas.” Henry sounded absolutely smug. “You need to release some tension.”

“Isn’t that  _ my _ line?” Lucas’ laugh was breathless. “I’m not the stiff one here.”

“Part of you is pretty stiff.”

Oh my  _ God _ . Lucas met Henry’s eyes in complete disbelief. “You did  _ not _ just say that.”

Grinning shamelessly, Henry worked his fingers under the waistband of Lucas’ boxers and tugged them down just enough to get one hand inside. Lucas was pretty sure his eyes rolled back in his head when Henry wrapped his warm strong fingers around Lucas’ almost painfully erect penis. He’d thought it was intense before, but  _ this _ …

“ _ Henry _ .” Lucas’ hips jerked forward, and Henry smiled, holding his gaze as he began to move his hand, sliding up and down Lucas’ length. Lucas could already feel the beginnings of the end as his orgasm started to build and he whimpered, wishing this could last longer. Henry seemed to sense how close Lucas was, and he sped up, tightening his grip. Then every muscle in Lucas’ body tensed, his back arching and head falling back as he exploded outward into sparks and fire. Death Star, indeed.

Giggling breathlessly, Lucas collapsed forward to bury his face in Henry’s shoulder again. Henry’s voice rumbled against him, amused, “Not exactly the reaction I was expecting.”

“Sorry,” Lucas mumbled into Henry’s shirt, his giggles slowly fading. “Star Wars thing.” He pushed himself back a bit and waved a hand vaguely at Henry. “I don’t have a lot of—well, any—experience, but… what about you?”

Lifting one eyebrow in an exaggeratedly suggestive expression, Henry replied, “I can’t tell you what I’m thinking right now.”

Lucas’ eyes widened and his mouth fell open. “Did you just quote  _ Jack Harkness _ ?” His voice was embarrassingly high, and nearly broke on the last word.

Grinning, Henry shifted forward toward the edge of the couch. “It’s getting late. My bed is only a double, but I think we’d both fit.”

Pushing himself to his feet, Lucas swayed and grabbed Henry for balance. “Am I staying the night?”

“If you want.” Henry stood up and gripped Lucas’ arm, and it wasn’t clear who was helping whom to stay on their feet.

“Of course I want to stay,” Lucas blurted. “I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me. Forever, even.” Fiery heat filled his face as he realized what he’d said, but Henry only smiled gently.

“Forever sounds good to me, Lucas.”

His heart pounding in his ears, Lucas followed Henry into the bedroom. Forever. Yeah, that sounded really good.


End file.
